|
The History of Buddhist Monasticism
and Its Western Adaptation
by Bhikshuni Karma
Lekshe Tsomo ©
A thorough discussion
of the transmission of Buddhist monasticism and its adaptation
in Western cultures would take volumes. Moreover, this historical
process is still in its initial stages and is so multifaceted
that any conclusions drawn at this point would be premature.
Here I shall simply explore a few of the issues involved.
Some of the points I raise may be controversial, but both
critical and comparative analyses are essential to an understanding
of the momentous meeting of cultures presently underway. Moreover,
the spirit of free inquiry is wholly compatible with Buddhist
thinking.
The sangha, the order of Buddhist renunciants,
began near Varanasi with five young men from respected Brahmin
families who became monks not long after the Buddha achieved
enlightenment and started teaching. Gradually they were joined
by thousands of other bhikshus (fully ordained monks) and
a few years later by hundreds of bhikshunis (fully ordained
nuns) as well. The early sangha was disproportionately upper
caste, with its members from the better-educated classes of
Indian society.
The Buddhist order was not the first
in India. Jain and Brahmanical communities, which served as
prototypes for the early sangha, were already established.
Surviving documents revealing how daily life was regulated
in these communities offer evidence that the early Buddhist
mendicants adopted some organizational features from them.
For example, followers of contemporary religious groups gathered
together periodically, so the early sangha also began to gather
on new moon and full moon days. At first they sat silently,
but followers of other sects criticized them for sitting "like
dumb pigs," so the Buddha instructed them to read the
Pratimoksa Sutra
containing their precepts on these occasions. This tradition
of the bhikshu sangha reciting the
Bhikshu Pratimoksa Sutra and
the bhikshuni sangha reciting the Bhikshuni
Pratimoksa Sutra is one of
the three essential rites of the monastic community. The other
two are the rite commencing the rainy season retreat (varsa)
and the rite concluding it (pravarana).
Other rites developed to help regulate the life of the sangha,
including precise instructions for conducting ordinations
and methods for resolving disputes.
In the beginning the bhikshus lived
an itinerant lifestyle, staying at the foot of trees and going
to villages and towns to gather their daily meal in an alms
bowl and to give Dharma teachings. Although they were dependent
upon the lay followers for alms, the optimal condition for
achieving liberation was said to be staying in seclusion in
the forest, aloof from society. As the sangha grew, the Buddha
sent the bhikshus out to disseminate the teachings far and
wide saying, "Let not two go in the same direction."
This instruction helped prevent the formation of strong bonds
of attachment to places or people. Gradually the bhikshus
and bhikshunis began to assemble in seasonal settlements (vihara)
for three months during the rainy season to avoid stepping
on the insects that abounded during that time. Eventually
these viharas
became more or less fixed residences, developing into separate
communities for the bhikshus and bhikshunis. These single-sex
communities included sramaneras (male novices) and sramanerikas
(female novices), who were training to receive the full precepts.
The Buddhists may have been the first renunciants in India
to establish organized monastic communities, many of which
evolved into educational centers.
Relieved of household responsibilities and attachments, the
monks and nuns were able to concentrate single-pointedly on
living a disciplined life and achieving the goal of liberation.
The Purpose and Practice of the Precepts
The Sanskrit word for becoming a
Buddhist renunciant is pabbajiya
meaning "going forth." It signifies leaving the
household life and entering a state of homelessness. After
becoming a renunciant, a person is expected to train for ten
years (or at least a minimum of five) under the close guidance
of a qualified senior bhikshu or bhikshuni preceptor.
After some years of such training, one might enter the second
stage of ordination, receiving the upasampada
or ordination as a bhikshu or bhikshuni, signifying full admission
into the sangha, or monastic order.
The Vinaya, the corpus of advice
and incidents related to monastic discipline, was not originally
formulated as a separate body of texts, but was an integral
part of the Dharma teachings. When the order began, no set
code of regulations for Buddhist mendicants existed. The regulations,
or precepts, were established as needed beginning with the
rule of brahmacarya
("pure conduct," meaning celibacy) after one of
the early monks returned home and slept with his wife.
Gradually over two hundred precepts were formulated on the
basis of the misconduct of the bhikshus and about one hundred
more on that of the bhikshunis.
That the bhikshunis have roughly one hundred
precepts more than the bhikshus has been interpreted by some
as evidence that women have more delusions than men and by
some as evidence of sexism in Buddhism. Examined historically,
however, neither interpretation is justified. Instead, it
appears that as the bhikshuni sangha evolved, the nuns inherited
most of the precepts formulated for the bhikshu sangha, and
additional precepts were formulated as incidents arose involving
nuns, particularly a nun named Thullananda and her followers.
Some of these latter precepts, such as the ones prohibiting
nuns from travelling alone, clearly are designed to protect
them from danger and exploitation. Other precepts, such as
the one requiring bhikshunis to receive instructions from
a bhikshu twice a month (but not vice versa), clearly reflect
gender inequalities in Indian society at that time.
The Pratimoksa texts contain the specific
injunctions by which Buddhist monks and nuns live, the precepts
that help them regulate their lives.
These injunctions are an integral part of Buddhist ethics
as a whole, helping practitioners create a conducive environment,
physical and psychological, for spiritual practice. They help
them, for example, to ensure the smooth functioning of the
Buddhist monastic community and to protect the sangha from
the criticism of the lay community. The Vinaya texts establish
a baseline for acceptable conduct for Buddhist monastics and
provide a framework within which sangha members may make informed
judgments on how best to conduct their lives and nurture their
practice of virtue.
The purpose of the Buddhist monastic code
is to establish optimal conditions for the achievement of
liberation. Observing the precepts helps beings control the
passions that entangle them in samsara and fosters the awareness
needed to precipitate liberation. Many times in the texts
the Buddha says, "Come, o monk, live the brahmacarya
life in order that you may put an end to suffering."
The Pratimoksa texts emphasize the practice of virtuous actions
and the forswearing of negative actions in order to progress
toward liberation from cyclic existence.
Sangha members make a voluntary, usually
lifelong, commitment to maintain certain precepts and standards
of behavior; it is important to consider this commitment seriously
before making it. The most fundamental requirements are to
refrain from sexual conduct; taking life; taking what is not
given; telling untruths; taking intoxicants; attending entertainment;
using ornaments, cosmetics, and perfumes; sitting on luxurious
seats and beds; taking food at unregulated times, and handling
silver and gold. In addition, many other precepts help monastics
remain mindful of every action in daily life. To take the
precepts lightly, saying "This precept is not that important,"
or "This precept is impossible to keep," violates
the precept that prohibits belittling the precepts. To the
casual observer, many of the secondary precepts appear trivial
and irrelevant to spiritual pursuit; even to the dedicated
practitioner their abundance can be discouraging. Harkening
back to the classic clerical debate over the letter versus
the spirit of the rule, one may also argue that adhering to
technical correctness rather than embodying the spirit of
the precepts is counterproductive to the achievement of liberation.
Of course, it is difficult to keep all
the precepts purely. Differences in social conditions now
and at the time of the Buddha require thoughtful adaptation
of the precepts in the present day. Making wise decisions
in adapting the precepts requires a thorough study of the
precedents, described in the Vinaya texts, upon which the
precepts were formulated. In
addition, years of training under careful guidance are required
to learn how to appropriately handle everyday situations,
especially in the West. Monastics often fall short of their
own expectations and occasionally commit infractions of the
precepts--walking on the grass, handling silver or gold, digging
the ground, and so on--but a clear understanding of the Vinaya
injunctions provides criteria for making decisions and serves
as a foundation for building a solid practice.
The patched robes and shaved head, the
most obvious signs of a Buddhist's monastic commitment, may
be inconvenient sometimes, evoking mixed reactions of curiosity,
admiration, or disdain from friends and passersby, but they
are also a powerful incentive for mindful awareness. Wearing
robes entails an obligation of honesty with regard to one's
moral conduct: it is a declaration that one is observing the
precepts of a Buddhist monastic, so to wear them without keeping
the precepts is dishonest. Sangha members are traditionally
regarded as worthy of trust, respect, and offerings. To acquire
these benefits undeservedly by misrepresenting oneself is
a serious matter. The dangers implicit in according all members
of the Buddhist community the status of sangha, whether they
are abiding by precepts or not, should be abundantly clear.
These days many Westerners commonly refer to all members of
Dharma centers as sangha, although this is not the traditional
usage of the term. Although it is possible for lay people
to be exemplars of ethical conduct, those who have made a
commitment to strict monastic discipline have traditionally
been regarded a field of merit.
Although the monastic code can and needs
to be interpreted within the context of culture, place, and
time, the Vinaya texts are part of the Buddhist canon and
cannot simply be revised at will. The various Buddhist monastic
cultures observed in the world today--Chinese, Japanese, Thai,
Tibetan, and so on--are the results of a synthesis of Vinaya
and the local norms and customs of the countries where Buddhism
spread. One of the most striking features of the world's various
Buddhist cultures is the common legacy of monastic discipline--the
robes, the mores, the spiritual ideals--that each of these
preserves in its own unique way.
As we may recall, it was the sight of
a renunciant who appeared peaceful and contented that inspired
Buddha Shakyamuni's renunciation of worldly life. The image
of this renunciant made a striking impression on the young
prince, who had been shocked by his recent encounters with
sickness, old age, and death, and his resultant realization
that these sufferings are intrinsic to the human condition.
To inspire others to develop renunciation and take up the
spiritual path, then, is one of the roles that a monastic
plays. This is a huge responsibility.
Nuns and monks cannot become genuine models
of simplicity and contentment unless we live simple and contented
lives. If we are caught up in consumerism, greed, and attachment--wanting
more comfort, more possessions, better possessions--then we
are spinning on the wheel of desire like everyone else and
do not represent an alternative lifestyle for others. It comes
down to this question: If nuns and monks live, act, and talk
like worldly people, are we really fulfilling the socially
beneficial role that is expected of a monastic? In an age
when the clergy of various religions in many countries are
coming under scrutiny for lavish indulgences and moral transgressions,
Western nuns and monks have the opportunity to help revitalize
Buddhism by reaffirming the original purity and simplicity
of spiritual life.
Paradoxes in Monastic Life
In the beginning the Buddha exhorted the
bhikshus and bhikshunis to "wander solitary as a rhinoceros."
As time went on and the number of nuns and monks grew, the
Buddhist sangha was criticized for roaming around and trampling
crops, so gradually many gave up their eremitic lifestyle
and settled in cenobitic communities. In a sense, then, Buddhist
monasticism represents a rejection of social expectations
yet, whether as mendicants or settled contemplatives, nuns
and monks are trained to be very conscious of social expectations.
The apparent tension here reveals the push and shove in monastic
life between self-oriented personal practice and other-oriented
community life--the contrast between liberation from the constraints
of the world on one hand, and concern for community and society
on the other. It mirrors a larger dichotomy between the mystical
ideal of the absolutely unconditioned and the mundane, reflected
in the strict observance of precise, practical rules. Such
contrasts illustrate the paradoxes implicit in Buddhist monastic
life.
On a personal level, a tension exists
between the desire for solitude and the desire to be of immediate
service to living beings "in the world." Perhaps
influenced by their Judeo-Christian cultural background, most
Western monastics become ordained with the intention, at least
in part, of helping people and contributing to the betterment
of society. Because Buddhism is new to the West, many opportunities
arise for social service--establishing centers, teaching, leading
retreats, serving teachers, translating, counseling newcomers,
running a Buddhist center, and responding to requests from
the wider community. However, these activities--important as
they are--clearly leave little time for personal practice.
We begin to feel guilty taking time away from the multifaceted
needs of the Buddhist community for individual study and meditation.
Yet, without a strong personal practice, we lack the inner
resources to adequately serve the community's needs. Ironically,
developing the inner spiritual qualities needed to benefit
sentient beings requires thorough study and reflection, which
requires periodic withdrawal from the very beings we wish
to serve.
Another paradox in monastic life concerns
the range of images and expectations that a nun or monk confronts
when living in the West. The lay community has high expectations
of monastics and sometimes expects them to be saints. On the
other hand they want them to be "human," with all
the human frailties, so that they can "identify with
them." Unrealistic expectations of saintliness can make
monastics feel totally inadequate to their chosen task, often
pushing them beyond their physical and emotional limitations;
whereas the expectation that they exhibit human frailties
can cause lapses in discipline. Monastics are expected to
be at once reclusive--masters of meditation and ritual--and
social--responding selflessly to the emotional and psychological
needs of all who petition them. These contrasting expectations
ignore the fact that individuals come to monastic life with
a range of personalities, inclinations, and capabilities.
For each one to be all things to all people is impossible,
however hard we may try. This creates an inner tension between
what we expect ourselves to embody spiritually and what we
realistically could have achieved at this point, as beginners
on the path. Trying to use this tension between spiritual
ideals and psychological realities creatively, for spiritual
progress, is one of the greatest challenges for a practitioner,
lay or ordained. The process of skillfully negotiating the
ideal and the ordinary, pride and discouragement, discipline
and repose, requires a raw personal honesty that only relentless
spiritual practice can engender.
Another paradox concerns the material
well-being of Western nuns and monks. The original mendicant
lifestyle practiced in India is difficult to replicate in
contemporary Western countries. Although ethnic Buddhist communities
generally care for the material needs of monastics in the
temples of their particular traditions, Western monastics
find few places outside Asia where they can live a monastic
lifestyle. Thus, Western nuns and monks are often monastics
without a monastery. Nuns and monks living at Gampo Abbey
in Nova Scotia and Amaravati in England are the exceptions.
Other ordained Western Buddhists find that issues of livelihood--food,
shelter, and medical expenses, for example--require a great
deal of energy that could otherwise be directed to spiritual
practice.
The general public, including Western
Buddhists themselves, often assumes that Buddhist monastics
are cared for by an order, as are Christian monastics, and
are surprised to learn that newly-ordained Western nuns and
monks may be left to deal with issues of sustenance completely
on their own. They may serve without compensation as teachers,
translators, secretaries, cooks, and psychological counselors
in the Dharma center and also work at an outside job in order
to pay for their own rent, food, and personal expenses. They
are expected to play the role of a monastic and do much more,
without the benefits traditionally accorded a monastic.
The wide spectrum of choices that Western
monastics make concerning issues of livelihood was evident
at the 1996 Bodhgaya training course, Life
as a Western Buddhist Nun. At one end of the spectrum
were two nuns from Amaravati who had not touched money for
sixteen years; at the other end was a nun who supported herself
as a registered nurse, wore lay clothes and longish hair for
her job, and had a mortgage on her apartment and taxes to
pay. Because adequate monastic communities have yet to be
developed, most ordained Westerners face the pressures of
playing both the role of a monastic and that of an ordinary
citizen. They must deal with the incongruity between the ideal
mendicant lifestyle from the time of the Buddha and the modern
ideal of economic self-sufficiency. Resolving the paradox
between the ideal of renunciation and the realities of survival
is one of the great challenges faced by Western Buddhist monastics.
Creating Monastic Communities for Women
At the time of the Buddha nuns received
their "going forth" (pabbajiya)
and training under the guidance of nuns. Although monks in
the early days were assumed to have greater knowledge and
authority, nuns felt more comfortable discussing personal
matters with nuns, rather than monks, and were able to receive
closer personal guidance by training under them. Even though
bhikshus confirm bhikshuni ordinations, as stipulated in the
Vinaya texts, the tradition of nuns receiving ordination and
training from nuns has continued in many monasteries until
today, particularly in China and Korea.
In countries such as Thailand, Sri Lanka,
and Tibet, however, the ordination of nuns has been conducted
almost exclusively by bhikshus. In a way, this makes sense,
since these bhikshu precept masters are well respected and
experienced in performing these ceremonies. On the other hand,
it means that monks have the power to decide who joins the
nuns' order without consulting the nuns. This creates a problem.
The bhikshus ordain women, but they often do not provide them
with food, accommodations, or training. Previously ordained
nuns have no choice but to accept these novices, even if they
are not at all suited to monastic life. Monasteries for nuns
must figure out some way to feed and house the newcomers or
are put in the awkward position of having to refuse them admission
to their monasteries. There have also been cases where bhikshus
have ordained women who are physically unwell, psychologically
or emotionally unstable, or retarded. Although it is contrary
to the Vinaya to ordain unfit people, once they are ordained,
the situation becomes very difficult. Senior nuns and their
monasteries are liable to be criticized if they are not able
to care for these new nuns.
Now I would like to bluntly raise the
issue of women's reliance on men and recommend that women
develop monastic communities independently. Of course nuns
are deeply indebted and deeply grateful for all the support,
encouragement, and teachings we have received from excellent
male teachers and I am not suggesting that we sever or diminish
these important relationships in any way. Instead, I am suggesting
that women, and nuns in particular, need to assume, with wisdom
and skillful means, a greater sense of responsibility for
our own future. We need to address straightforwardly issues
of autonomy and leadership, cutting dependencies on male authority,
instilling a sense of self-reliance, and fostering independent
communities.
Many women both in Asian and Western societies
are male identified. This is natural in patriarchal societies,
where men are valued over women. Male identified women respect
men, ask and accept advice from men, work for men, support
men materially, look to men for approval, and provide men
with food, lodging, all necessities, and often luxuries, even
when they do not have enough themselves. This is not a new
phenomenon. During the Buddha's time an elderly nun was found
to have passed out from lack of food, because she had given
the food in her alms bowl to a monk. When the Buddha heard
about this, he prohibited monks from accepting alms that had
been collected by nuns.
It is important to question honestly whether
the tendency to identify with males is appropriate for nuns.
In leaving household life, nuns reject the traditional role
of subordination to a husband or male partner. We renounce
the role of a sex object available for men's enjoyment and
enter a community of women where we can be free of men's authority.
Therefore, it seems a bit strange if nuns, having achieved
a state of freedom and independence, then choose to rely constantly
on men. Men have their own concerns and responsibilities.
No matter how compassionate they are, monks cannot be expected
to take full responsibility for nuns' communities. Nuns need
to develop self reliance and self confidence and begin to
take full responsibility for their own communities. At present,
due to a scarcity of qualified female teachers, that is, Tripit.aka
masters, nuns have no choice but to rely on male teachers
in developing study programs. But I suggest that women adopt
the goal of nurturing and developing themselves as fully qualified
teachers and spiritual masters capable of guiding not only
other women, but society at large.
Excellent models of autonomous monastic
communities for women exist today in Taiwan and Korea. In
the past few years these communities have inspired education
and meditation training programs for women in locations as
widespread as Sri Lanka, Thailand, and the Indian Himalayas.
Autonomous monastic communities for men have been a staple
of Asian life for centuries. Now, with the acculturation of
Buddhism in the West, we have the opportunity to focus attention
on developing autonomous monastic communities for women that
are equally valued. Buddhist women teachers in both Asia and
the West are demonstrating that spiritual leadership is not
only a possibility for women, but is already an everyday reality.
|
